


Poor, Sweet Thing

by uncannyconfluence



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Amnesiac Loki (Marvel), Consensual Underage Sex, Daddy Kink, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Intersex Loki (Marvel), Kissing, Lactation Kink, M/M, Nipple Licking, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Praise Kink, Pregnancy Kink, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Self-Esteem Issues, Sibling Incest, Size Kink, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Thorki - Freeform, Underage (kind of), puberty woes, sibling incest (kind of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23469982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncannyconfluence/pseuds/uncannyconfluence
Summary: He tells himself its for Loki, for the pain. And not at all about his own obscene, all consuming desire for his baby brother. No, this act is purely analgesic in nature.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 309





	Poor, Sweet Thing

**Author's Note:**

> So, erm. These are dark times and it'd be nice to just have someone (read: Thor) hold me and tell me everything's going to be okay and then proceed to show me just how okay. 
> 
> Loki's 30 years old (but also millenia old) but has chosen to keep his pre-adolescent form for, er...reasons. 
> 
> I've stolen loki's origin story from the greek legend of hermaphroditus.
> 
> I've proofread it, but there's no beta or anything so apologies in advance for errs.

“King Thor,” the voice is low, but urgent. Thor raises his gilded head and frowns at the familiar consternation he sees on Rainard’s lined face.

He’s already getting to his feet. His small congregation of advisors rises as well, their voices ebbing.

“Is he well?” Thor asks, cracking his neck. He’s been seated for nearly an hour as plans for the upcoming rite are hashed and rehashed and it feels good to finally stand.

“He’s inconsolable. It’s been hours, he won’t. He just wants you,” she says.

Thor curses.

“Why did you not come to me sooner?” he murmurs.

“I - I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you from your matters. He hasn’t done this in so long, I thought it would ease. Today is different,” she says, abashedly. 

He dismisses the gathering and makes his way down the hall to his chambers. Rainard follows, practically jogging to meet his pace.

“Has he eaten?”

“No, he refuses, even to be hand fed.”

“Slept?”

“He’ll exhaust himself from crying, but then. I’m not quite sure, something happens and he’ll begin anew,” she says. He can’t fault her. It’s been years since Loki was disturbed to the degree she’s describing. Thor worries at what sent him spiraling. Could his memories be returning?

“Rainard, you must come to me. He is my first priority,” he tells her. She nods and wrings her hands together.

In his chambers, the sight that awaits Thor tightens his throat. In the middle of his massive four poster bed, sits Thor’s gold wolf, Rune, wrapped tightly around his baby brother. Loki is barely a slip of pale skin buried amongst the the gilt of fur and muscle. Thor can almost taste the salt of Loki’s tears as Rune laps at his little brother’s face. Loki whimpers and sucks on his thumb, pale and flushed, eyes far too big, long eyelashes clumped with unshed tears. The sound of the door closing behind Thor has both beast and child looking up from their cocoon on the bed.

“Daddy,” comes a whisper, a stretch of delicate pale arms.

And then Thor is kneeling on the bed, gathering his little brother into his big arms. Something eases in Thor. The same thing eases in Loki. His tears start afresh, but they are silent as his little body trembles with emotion too big for it as he lays his head against Thor’s chest.

Loki’s fine hands wrap in the fabric of Thor’s tunic, his legs bent on either side of Thor’s waist as they sit on the bed. Thor breathes him in, lilacs, peppercorns, sweat.

“Are you well, my darling?” Thor asks against the silk of his wild curls. 

“Daddy,” comes a tiny voice buried in his shirt.

“Daddy’s here, baby,” he says, soothing a big palm up and down the wisp of Loki’s back. He’s so little, so fine. Rune shifts, pushes his wet nose between the two brothers. Loki pets his head, his ears. Seeking comfort from all sources willing.

He holds Loki until his little brothers trembling gentles and his tears abate.

“What is wrong my sweet love?” he asks, pulling back to assess the damage. Red rimmed eyes the color of emeralds, milky skin splotched claret-red, a quivering bottom lip. His hair is mad, his loose dark green tunic the same one he slept in last night, legs bare underneath. He smells sharp and salty, like sweat and tears. 

Thor can’t help but note that Loki’s baby fat is all but gone, the limbs are long and dangling, soft hair darkening where once was smooth silk. But in his eyes, Loki’s still a baby. _His_ baby. It’s only been thirty years after all, Loki only now sluggishly letting his mystical body broach adolescence. But they are gods, and gods, especially amnesiac ones resurrected after traumatic deaths, need time. 

Loki doesn’t respond, just buries himself into Thor’s armpit.

“Talk to me baby, you know you can tell Daddy anything. But I can’t make it better unless you tell me, love,” Thor soothes.

“I hurt,” Loki whimpers. It’s said so softly that Thor isn’t sure he even heard it right.

“Oh baby, what hurts honey? Daddy will kiss it better,” Thor promises.

Loki pulls back, looking interested all of a sudden.

“Show Daddy where baby,” Thor says.

“Here,” Loki points to his head. Thor kisses his temples, mouths at the soft space between Loki’s eyebrows right over his third eye. Loki makes a sweet sound as Thor’s fingers scratch at his scalp. He can practically feel the tension melting from his little boy’s body.

“Here,” Loki points to his tummy. Thor notes that the once concave surface looks a little swollen, a little plump.

“You’re hungry baby, won’t you let Daddy feed you?” Thor asks, in that rough honeyed way that he knows Loki melts for.

“M’not hungry, it _hurts_ , you _promised,_ ” Loki’s lower lip starts to tremble.

“Shh, okay okay.” Thor lays Loki gently back against Rune’s giant body, lifts his tunic and sponges tender kisses along his raised belly, careful with his stubble on the velvet skin.

“Here,” Loki points to his lower belly. Thor complies.

Loki lifts his shirt further up until it’s gathered below his chin. 

Thor loses his breath. Oh. _Oh._

_“Here,_ ” Loki says. His emerald gaze unwavering.

He knows Loki’s body is changing. Has changed, slowly over the course of these last three decades. Still, how could he have missed _this_ about his beautiful little boy? Thor bathes Loki and lies next to him in sleep. Holds him through his tantrums and reads to him. Teaches him how to fight, lets him practice spells on Thor and even braid Thor’s hair. Just like they used to before. Before the throne, before the break. Before the world ended. Before Loki made the ultimate sacrifice and was lost forever. Before the Tasseract brought him back, but in this current form. The same, but different. They are as close as any two can be.

Loki is Thor’s second chance, one that Thor is going to wrap in velvet and feed with honey. Protect and cherish and love through everything.

But _this._ This Thor wasn’t quite ready for.

“Kiss me, Daddy, they _hurt,_ ” he wiggles his little hips and whines.

“Baby, you’re growing breasts,” Thor marvels, licking his lips. They are small. In this position, on his back, they are barely there, creamy knolls, tipped in strawberry nipples. Tiny, but plush. Beautiful. Straining. _Fuck_. 

“Breasts? Daddy, I’m a _boy_ ,” Loki says, those big green eyes going liquid with tears as he looks angrily down at his chest. His panic breaks Thor out of his stupor.

But Loki is not a boy. It’s a conversation that Thor isn’t quite sure how to have. Has put off for many moons, hoping Loki’s memories of his own body’s development will kick in at some point. But it seems like he’s done his baby brother quite a disservice by his own cowardice.

“Baby, you remember when we talked about how special you are?” Thor’s thumbs trace Loki’s vulnerable sides, right along the crest of his ribcage. Watches as those pretty nipples tighten even further.

“Because I’m a god,” Loki fidgets and says in that way that means _get on with it._ It would work if only his voice wasn’t quite so breathy.

“You are, one unlike any other,” Thor smiles.

“Because I can do magic,” Loki says.

Thor shakes his head.

“Because you _are_ magic, my sweet.”

“Tell me the story, Daddy,” he says, those evergreen eyes glowing with the promise of more knowledge.

Thor pretends to consider.

“Daddy!”

“Alright, but only if you let Daddy feed you while he tells you how you came to be.”

Loki frowns but gives a diffident nod.

It’s enough for Thor, who bundles him up in the softest blanket he can find, cradles him on his lap and reaches for a plate of food that Rainard has laid out for them. 

“No,” Loki’s lower lip juts out, mulish.

“We agreed, baby,” Thor says.

“Bottle. I want my bottle,” Loki says, stubborn.

Something in Thor’s lower belly flutters at the request. He _loves_ feeding Loki like this and was absolutely heartbroken a few months ago when Loki threw an especially aggressive hissy fit in the middle of the dining hall claiming he was no longer interested in being fed like a baby. 

Rainard, in all her wisdom, has prepared for Loki’s mercurial nature. The bottle sits on the tray, filled with milk and thickened with honey, just the way his baby likes it. It’s still warm.

Thor cradles Loki’s head and offers him the bottle, the mint green nipple a soft contrast against Loki’s pretty pink mouth. Loki swallows it down and starts to suck. His eyes are rapt on Thor.

Thor wonders how long he’ll get to do this. The smell of baby and milk, it makes him _ache._ Ache that his baby is changing before his very eyes. Ache in a strange way. One with yearning for the beautiful transformation to come as much as with dolefulness for what was. As Loki changes, so will his needs. A fissure of excitement runs through Thor at that prospect, but he buries it just like he’s done for the last thirty years. He kisses Loki’s temple and tells his baby how beautiful he is like this.

Loki’s cute mouth pops off the bottle and he whines for the story. His little body fidgets in the burrito Thor has made of him. 

Thor shushes him, slipping his hand back into Loki’s hair to soothe. He speaks only after Loki begins to drink once again. With any luck, those pretty eye lashes will droop and he’ll be fast asleep before Thor’s tale gets to the gruesome bits.

_You know that we are not true blood brothers, even though in your past life we were raised as such. You know that you were stolen from a land of ice when you were just a babe, stolen from the ice giant king by my father, who took one look at you and decided that he had to have you. That you had to be raised by gods, with gods. As is your birth right._

Loki’s eyes get big and his throat bobs. A bit of milk leaks from the side of his mouth and Thor thumbs it away. Poor baby was _starving._

_But you weren’t a child of the ice giant king either, my love. I do not know how you came to be in his care, but you were not his. No, you were born to the goddess of love and the god of tricks and boundaries, as well as the transgression of boundaries._

_You were, are, beautiful. So beautiful, baby. Every where you went, people would fall in love with you._

_Love is a many-faced thing. We have spoken about this. The love of a parent for their child - familiar and sweetly bonded, like milk. The enduring love of brothers, friends - the love shared between those who consider themselves equals. The love of eros - passion, danger, animal lust that burns hot but burns out._

“That’s your love!” Loki says around the nipple, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Indeed,” nods Thor, the god of fertility.

_Self-love. Very important, this one. You must love yourself, it’s necessary for we cannot give to others what we don’t have for ourselves. Your body is changing, Lo. It is beautiful, but you are uneasy in it. But that is natural, my sweet. We will love it together, slowly and truly, my baby. Then there’s enduring love -_

“Thats our love! Forever love,” says Loki, the boy who, once resurrected, remembered nothing but _Thor._

“Very good, baby,” Thor says, gentling the bottle back into Loki’s pleased mouth, “I’ll love you, forever. Give you everything you need as you grow and become whatever you want - and whatever that may be I know this to be true, my love, you are my other half - my perfect fit.”

Loki smiles around the bottle and blinks, reaches up and winds a tiny moon pale hand into Thor’s sunshine hair. Thor nuzzles a kiss to the delicate wrist, lapping at his baby’s sweet milk and lilac scent. And underneath it, the peppercorn spice of the potent magic that runs through those delicate blue veins.

“And one day, I’ll become your queen.” Loki says, wiggling his toes, a dreamy smile on his mouth, bottle forgotten once again. Loki adores the idea of being Thor’s queen. Some days, Thor will return to his chamber to find Loki wearing nothing but their mother’s most extravagant jewels and an imperious look on his face. After which Thor will have to get on his knees and kiss his brother’s rings and pledge his undying loyalty to him. Before catering to his every demand for the rest of the night.

“You’re already my queen, love,” Thor whispers against his temple sponging soft kisses there, smiling at the memory of those beloved nights. Loki is his queen in more ways than just ornamental. Loki is absolutely instrumental to the throne. His decisiveness, his ability to think ten turns ahead, his disregard for what other’s think of him. Thor’s left his brother in charge on many occasions with absolute certainty that when he returns, the kingdom will be just a bit more efficient, just a bit more grateful to have their king back. 

“I forever love you daddy, so much,” Loki sighs. Thor’s heart blips and he clears his throat.

“Then there’s, hmm I can’t seem to remember,”

“Play love!” Loki says, giggling at his silly daddy.

“Yes! Clever baby! Playful love - it’s the butterflies, the giddiness,” Thor tickles his baby’s belly. Loki’s giggle becomes audacious laughter as he squirms and grabs at Thor’s big hands.

Thor covers his face in kisses, relieved to see his Loki smiling.

_But theres another kind of love too, baby. Manic love. Obsession. Darkness. The type of love that leads someone into madness, jealousy, anger._

Loki fidgets, uncomfortable again. Loki doesn’t remember much, things come to him in flashes that usually render him a sobbing mess. But he knows this is _his_ love, the one he fell prey to over and over in his past life. The love that kept him and Thor apart for millenia.

Thor kisses his forehead, at the little crease forming there, and pushes the nipple back into Loki’s mouth. Thor watches Loki suck, coos and tells him sweet things until eventually, Loki loses his agitation to the comfort of warm honeyed milk and his Daddy’s safe arms and enduring voice.

_Drink up love. Babies need milk, don’t they? And you, my love were so very special and so very hungry. Nothing could fill you, you always wanted more. So Odin took you to a mountain pool where nixies protected their horde of gold. You were nursed there, my love. On the rich milk of mermaids, the richest, thickest milk in all the realms. So white, it’s blue. There you were surrounded by the music and song the nixies used to lure youth to themselves, and then into the deep._

_Years later, we were swimming in a mountain pool one warm day. You were similar to how you are now, young but so very beautiful. I was a bit more developed, older. Our love had adapted already, not just brotherly anymore - more erotic now, as our bodies changed and our desire grew. I couldn’t stop looking at you, at the way you moved and laughed. And that day, oh Loki, love, you were radiant. The water clung to your rainbow hair, your long milky limbs, your glowing skin. I imagined you had become a mermaid and I, your spellbound captive._

_It was there that the nixie Salmacis saw you and was also overcome. What started as lust turned into madness when you spurned her. She wrapped herself around you anyway, forcibly kissing you, touching you. I tried to wrench her away, but she prayed to your birth parents as we struggled. Prayed that you should never part. They granted her wish. One second I was holding her by the blue throat, the next second it way your milky white one between my fingers. You and the nixie had blended, had become one form._

Loki’s breathing is coming out in sharp little bursts, tears slipping down the sides of his pale face. Thor puts a calming hand on the middle of his baby’s chest and kisses away those tears. Rune makes a sad whimpering noise and rests his head on Loki’s belly.

“It’s okay baby, I know this is hard to hear love, but you’re doing so well. Being so brave for me.”

“I’m scared daddy,” Loki hiccups.

“No need to be scared, my sweet baby. I’m here. Rune’s here. Nothing’s going to hurt you. This was a lifetime ago. More.”

“What happened when we blended, daddy?”

Thor frowns, his mind going back to Loki’s new squirming wet body, his verdant eyes - still scared, but also knowing. Glowing with a savage sort of light. He remembers how on that day, the two brothers had, with shaking fingers, discovered that Loki had become a creature of an in-between sex. What followed was a billowing of Loki’s rapacious appetites and an unending _obsession_ with testing out each every inch of his new body, with Thor’s assistance, of course.

_“_ You became _you._ Your features got a little softer, your sweet hips a little curvier. Your moods a little more maddening. There were other changes too. Between your legs and even inside your body. Your needs were…urgent, all-consuming. So together, we embarked on a journey to discover all the precious secrets of your beautiful double sex. It took decades, maybe a millenia of coupling - of heat and love, but we were together so it could’ve just been a blink of an eye, really. And that, my love, is how you became the forever mate of the god of fertility.”

The bottle’s hanging limply as Loki chews the nipple. It’s still more than half full. His eyes are wide, his breathing still shallow and fast against Thor’s palm, that little heart trying to escape it’s bone cage. At least the tears have quelled.

Thor pushes a wild curl out his brother’s eyes. They have had many difficult conversations. Yes, Loki, you did manipulate Odin into banishing Thor. Yes, Loki, you did indirectly cause Ragnarok - but baby, you were fated to, so lets talk about the inevitably of fate. Oh, you’ve remembered that one time you transformed Thor into a frog and took the throne hostage? No, baby, that was _not_ funny.

Of all of them, this particular conversation is probably the hardest one to have with his love coddled brother whose known very little discomfort outside of whatever his memories birth.

Thor waits with bated breath.

Loki, in all his cunning and wisdom, pushes Rune away and proceeds to pull down his underclothes.

“Loki,” Thor sighs.

Loki just grunts as he yanks violently, stretching the fabric dangerously close to ripping just to free his caught foot without having to reach down. Rune whines and dodges a flailing limb and Thor makes a sound of disapproval but the fabric snaps, Loki’s little foot finally free. The delicate anklet which had been caught in the fabric makes an airy tinkling sound before settling against his lunar skin.

Loki drops the garment carelessly and spreads his soft thighs. He sits forward to peer down into the cup of his body, like he’s never seen himself before. Thor’s eyes follow his brother’s gaze to the small set of cock and balls nestled in a tiny patch of hair so fine it’s barely there. Loki is absolutely deliciously pink.

“I’m in between?”

Thor reaches down and thumbs at the pretty pair of balls, unable to help himself when he realizes they’ve grown larger since the last time. Loki’s cock gives an interested little stir and he whimpers.

“This is your set of male sex organs, Loki. Your cock and your balls. As you develop, they grow bigger - it’s why you’re having more frequent erections baby,” he says as he touches each reverently.

Loki’s tiny fingers wrap around the shaft, working himself languidly. Like he’s greeting an old friend. Loki’s erections have become an ubiquitous thing of late. Thor lets him touch himself as much and as often as he likes. And Loki _likes,_ even though he hasn’t ejaculated yet. As far as Thor’s concerned, what’s the point of being mated to a fertility god, born to the goddess of love, and being the god of mischief, if you’re not allowed free and clear wanking rights?

“Feel good?” Thor asks.

“It’s okay,” Loki says one hand on his cock while the other rubs at his burgeoning chest. Poor thing, he must be hurting.

“Will my cock look like yours after I develop?”

Thor laughs. 

“Not quite, love.”

Loki pouts but doesn’t say anything else as his little hand gives his now hard little dick one final, resolute tug and lifts up his balls to reveal the smooth vertical cleft beneath.

Desire thrums through Thor, thick and viscous as Loki spreads his legs further.

“Daddy, it feels weird,” Loki fidgets, taking Thor’s hand and slipping it into that warm, sacred space.

_Oh shit._ He’s _wet._

Loki makes a frustrated sound when Thor pulls away, but quiets when he sees the clear discharge slicking the tips of his brother’s finger.

“When did you start getting wet, baby?” Thor asks.

Loki puts his hand between his legs to investigate the source of his wetness. Loki’s masturbatory adventures have mostly been confined to exploring his cock and balls. And Thor’s too, when his older brother is asleep or feeling generous. Thor doesn’t blame him, Loki’s female genitalia had confused both brothers at first.

“I think. I think, today? What is it? Is it bad?” Loki says as he squeezes his thighs around his hand, his face taking on a lovely sheen.

Poor, sweet thing. Wet cunt, tender nipples. Confused and aching and alone with all this newness. Thor thinks to have Rainard warn him when Loki gets like this, especially in the upcoming weeks. Or years, decades even. Who knows how long Loki will drag this out? But if the moisture is any indication, he’s inching closer to a precipice of sorts. 

Carefully, Thor lifts a slick finger to his nose and takes a deep inhale before sucking it clean. Milky sweet in smell, salted musk in taste, with just a hint, a promise, really, of something burnished dark and coppery.

“It’s perfect, Lo,” Thor grunts, his cock expanding rapidly against the curve of Loki’s ass where he’s cradled in Thor’s lap.

Loki squirms with a mixture of relief and excitement. Relief that this is normal and excitement that it’s having such a profound effect on his brother. Loki can spend hours in Thor’s lap, just rubbing himself silly on his daddy’s big cock. He loves when it gets fat and leaky. He always wants to put it in his mouth, but Daddy says not yet, baby. Not yet. Soon, but not yet. It frustrates Loki. But oh, this new thing - this slip and slide of his own fingers in his leaky cunt - he’d been scared before, but it is absolutely, _wildly_ delicious. Almost enough to make him forget about the way his chest and belly ache.

“Be still, love. Let me show you,” Thor says, his voice drenched with lust. Loki shivers at the sound of it, at the thought of daddy’s thick knowing fingers down there instead of his own, thin inexperienced ones. With more self control than he thought he was capable of, Loki plants his little feet on the bed and spreads those creamy thighs back apart. They stick together a little at first before peeling apart. Loki sighs at the way the cool air washes over his tender flesh. 

Rune raises his head, the delicate skin of his nostrils quivering.

Thor bends over his little brother, breathing in the musk of his arousal mingling with lilacs and milk. His eyes nearly roll back into his head at it.

Grappling for composure, Thor lowers his hand to join his brother’s.

“This is your vulva, baby. It’s like a flower, there are outer petals,” together they delicately trace the larger lips, still hairless, “and there are inner petals,” he says, now guiding Loki’s touch through the sliver of silken wet heat.

Loki shivers his pleasure and withdraws his slick coated hand from between his legs, resting it on his thigh. He closes his eyes and puddles in Thor’s lap. His daddy’s warm touch eases some of the ache, transforming it into lovely little drips of warm honey pooling in his lower belly. He smiles dreamily, happy to let his daddy pet and caress him while he leaks and quivers and _moans_.

Thor clears his throat, grasps valiantly at the biology lesson he’s attempting. Tries to ignore the hunger inside him that wants nothing more than to suck Loki’s fingers clean while pushing his own through all these lovely, dripping petals and deep into the hot forbidden heat of his baby’s body.

Instead, Thor says, “Your vulva will get bigger as you grow, baby. It’ll plump up with blood and hormones anytime you become excited.”

“Like now?”

“Mmhmm. Like now. And just look at all this gorgeous slick you’re making, love. So pretty, so yummy.”

“What’s it for?” Loki asks, examining his own shining fingers with curiosity. Thor watches as he gives a delicate sniff and then laps at the liquid with his fat pink tongue before sucking his finger tip into his mouth, in a gesture similar to Thor’s.

But unlike Thor, Loki continues to suck. Each finger. 

Thor prays to the gods for patience. It takes him a moment to start talking again. 

“It’s your body’s natural way of moistening and cleansing itself, love. You’re making more of it now than you were before because we’re touching you and talking about you - it’s arousing, isn’t it? But it’s normal to be a little damp the rest of the time, too.”

Thor’s not sure whether to tell Loki how all that lovely slick is going to help lubricate his tight little hole, so Thor can eventually slide his fingers, his toys, his cock, or whatever else he wants in and out of him. That little bit of information might have to wait a bit.

Loki starts to pull on his cock, his head lolling as Thor gathers and spreads a fresh gush of slick. He begins massaging Loki’s inner thighs, his hips with it.

Thor murmurs praises into his baby’s temple, pressing the bottle back into Loki’s open mouth. A little tweak of those eyebrows, but Loki starts to suck.

A lovely quiet descends, punctuated with just the sound of Loki’s quiet sucking and Rune’s calm breathing. Loki’s eyelids shutter close, the milk bottle only half full now and Thor feels something unclench in his belly. They had gotten through it.

But then Loki twitches, once again agitated. A wave of pain wracks his little body and he opens his mouth with a wail. The bottle slips out of his mouth, rolls onto the bed. Loki scrunches up those little eyebrows and releases his cock to rub meanly at his exposed belly, “Daddy, it _hurts_.”

Thor assumes the task of rubbing gentle circles over Loki’s swollen tummy and lower back, easing him through the cramp as Loki cries wetly into Thor’s shirt. He kisses and soothes, sweeping damp curls away from Loki’s damp brow and just holding his sweat soaked baby.

In Loki’s past life, when the brothers were young, Thor would pacify and pleasure Loki through the first few days of his cycle when his bleeding was the heaviest. He knew it was selfish because his brother was hurting, but Thor would secretly look forward to when the time came every three months, because Loki would be so open, so unbearably _sweet_ and needy for Thor, and _only_ Thor. Until he had decided he had no need for his cycle, for such cheap vulnerability and had somehow quashed it altogether.

Thor doesn’t remember much about the time before Loki’s first cycle. His own body was going through so much and together, the brothers were too urgent, too fast, too needy to take any time for anything other than pleasure. He does remember that Loki, hungry and curious and impatient, had pushed himself quickly through the first pangs of his development, choosing to keep his chest flat and his hips sharp. Loki’s relationship with his beautiful female form was a slavish addiction to its pleasures on one hand and deep shame and embarrassment on the other. Thor couldn’t understand it, had wished for all the world that his brother would love himself the way Thor loved him. Completely. 

His heart brims over at this chance to do it all over again, this time with love and delicacy and trust.

After a few, long, aching moments, Loki quiets. A few more pass, and he lays back down and slides Thor’s palm from his belly, over his now soft cock, back down to his still wet cunt.

Thor swallows down a laugh. Ever the same, his baby brother.

“You can’t see it, but inside your body, the organs that will allow you to make babies are also growing,” Thor says, his voice deep as he traces Loki’s never breached entrance with feather light touches.

“Babies?” Loki’s tiger eyelashes bat open, his eyes alert through the thick cloud of residual pain and ever-present need. He presses a little white hand to his lower belly in shock.

“Mmhmm, your female sex allows you to grow babies. That’s also why your chest is tender love, your body is flushed with hormones now so that one day, your breasts can grow full of milk for feeding hungry mouths,” Thor’s included.

Loki cocks his head to the side, one eye on his discarded milk bottle as he rucks up his tunic and slowly thumbs at the red flesh of his nipples.

He’s seen the nixies nurse their babies. Even now, he can still charm them into holding him tight to their leaking breast and letting him latch onto those swollen purple nipples and drink his fill. The feeding, the being held tight, the warm thick milk heals Loki in a deep, visceral way, appeases his turbulent nightmares, eases the ache of his horrible memories. It’s one of the many reasons he’s chosen to keep this form for so long.

He wants to share that experience with his brother. Maybe next time he’ll ask his favorite nixie if she’d consider letting Thor have a suckle. Perhaps it will help heal some of Thor’s own troubles. 

Loki frowns again. No, that’s not _quite_ what he wants. He considers the idea of holding a baby with big blue eyes and a wisp of golden curl to his own swollen breast. He imagines his big brother wrapping his mouth around the other one and suckling.

“I want babies,” Loki says in an offhanded manner before he closes his eyes and drops back into his stupor.

Thor’s breath catches, his body going rigid with shock as he forgets what he’s doing. Something hot and bloody blooms out of his lower belly - an inkling he’d never once dared to give hope to. He feels weak, weak with _craving._ Malleable. So that Loki could open and scoop out the heart of him with just a flick of those eyelashes.

Loki makes an agitated noise at being deprived of that honeyed touch between his legs. His eyebrows knitting together as he raises his head to stare at Thor with one eye still closed.

“Sorry Lo. I -“ Thor licks his dry lips with a dry tongue, “I didn’t know you wanted babies.”

“Of course I do, daddy,” he says before adding, with more urgency, “When can I have them?”

“Um.” Thor doesn’t know what to say.

Both wicked green eyes are now open, glowing with impatience.

“I want them as soon as possible.”

“Yes, of course love. It’s just, in the past, you’ve never shown any interest or desire.”

Loki considers this in the same disdainful way he does most things he’s found out about his previous lives. 

“I had a lot going on back then,” he says, adult-like. 

Thor laughs, the vise in his chest easing. That red vulnerability transforming into a sort of hope which flaps white wings in his chest. His darling Loki full with his seed, growing his babies in his magical body. And soon.

“I want them.”

“You will have them.”

Appeased, Loki hums and settles in again, his head resting on Thor’s knee as he spreads his thighs open, wiggles his hips urgently. Those delicate golden anklets make a lovely tinkling sound, like a breeze through glass beads. He looks for all the world like a queen ready to be serviced.

Thor takes the opportunity to slip the bottle back between his open lips. This time, Loki begins to suck in earnest, knowing that a reward is forthcoming for his compliance. Such a quick learner.

Thor smiles and massages Loki’s swollen lower belly, his supple curving hips. Imagines what it’ll be like when they grow with his child. He runs one finger along Loki’s length, caresses at his hairless ball sac, cooing when his sweet little shaft expands and flushes red at the light touch. His touches more lavish, more uninhibited now. And Loki blooms under them, so sensitive, so responsive.

Loki moans and Thor slips his fingers back along his brother’s smooth vertical cleft, the petals just a little more open now, wet and warm and _willing_. Thor doesn’t let himself linger, not too long anyway, before he’s rubbing at the soft meat of his inner thighs, still plump with baby fat, massaging the lovely slip of skin leading from cunt to asshole. Thor doesn’t dare breach the sanctity of that very precious orifice, even if he does circle it lovingly.

Slowly, Thor makes his way back to Loki’s belly to begin the cycle of caresses anew.

Loki once again becomes melted chocolate under Thor’s uninhibited ministrations. His petite hips shift rhythmically, fingers of one hand lazily caress those swollen nipples while the other holds his growing cock. His mouth sucking dreamily on the bottle. Slowly, his baby loses the tight look around his big eyes, the lines of strain around his lush mouth.

But Thor knows the pain will be back again, and soon. He makes a mental note to ask the court apothecary to brew Loki some painkillers. But for now, there’s only one thing that ever gave Loki any lasting relief from the cramps.

He tells himself its for Loki, for the pain. And not at all about his own obscene, all consuming desire for his baby brother. No, this act is purely analgesic in nature.

Gently, Thor circles the small bead of Loki’s clitoris.

The effect is immediate.

Loki squawks like a bird as his body becomes a wave - this time of pleasure rather than pain. His pussy gushes lilacs and milky musk. Thor can feel the liquid seeping through the blanket and onto this thighs.

His mouth waters.

Rune jumps off the bed with a whimper, escaping to his little corner of the room.

“Wha - what, what is _that_?” Loki squeaks, dribbling milk. He fists Thor’s tunic as he labors for a breath, his head bowed, eyes glued to where Thor’s finger rests unassumedly against him.

“This?” Thor circles again, smiling as Loki keens and flops once again.

“This is your clitoris, baby. Your clit. It’s a tiny bundle of nerves that brings incredible pleasure. It gets nice and chubby when you’re aroused and if you touch it, gently, like this,” another gasp, “it feels so good and tingly.”

“Oh, _oh,_ ” Loki pants, his eyes full of wonder, his hand on his cock turning furious.

“Good?”

“More. Don’t stop, daddy.”

“Yes, my queen,” Thor purrs. 

Thor’s caresses become hypnotically rhythmic while Loki yanks at himself erratically. Together, they work Loki’s blossoming body until he’s withdrawn into a noisy, non-verbal state of sweat and writhing bliss.

So far in this life cycle, Thor’s watched his baby hump many a pillow, watched him writhe around on the empty throne room floor and suck milk from his bottle before spitting it onto Thor’s chest and slurping it up. He has no idea how he’s managed to keep himself in check, especially on one particular sweat-drenched, desperate night when Loki rode his thigh while weeping and sucking on Thor’s fingers until they were pruney and white. Loki is a sex pest on the best of days. But this, this is something else entirely. 

But still not enough.

“Daddy, please, please,” Loki mewls, turning his head from side to side on Thor’s knee as another frisson of pain overtakes Thor’s carefully built wall of pleasure.

“What baby, tell me. Anything,” Thor asks, frowning. Loki’s female parts have always been so bloody-minded and Thor, in his attempts to stay virtuous, is decidedly out of practice.

“You promised to kiss them and make them better, they _hurt,_ ” Loki yanks violently at his tunic, his cheeks flushed, his curls wild and damp with sweat. He’s close, Thor can tell. But still aching, and if Thor doesn’t do something fast the pain will win.

“Shh. Okay baby, just, let’s get you out of these sweaty clothes,” Thor says, pressing the palm of his hand between Loki’s legs to keep the pressure constant as he eases his tiny brother into a sitting position.

Loki raises his arms and Thor divests him of his tunic, one handed. Chills erupt on his little arms, up and down his thighs. Those sweet, swollen nipples tightening even more.

“Why can’t I decide _now_ daddy? I think my body wants to be a boy. I don’t _want_ breasts. I _hurt.”_ Thor can see those eyelashes trembling again, that petal pink mouth pouting as Loki goes back to stroking himself with a pure sort of desperation.

Thor has to bite down on a chuckle at the _drama._

“You can’t decide now, love because there’s nothing _to_ decide yet. Your body is already going through the changes needed to develop both sexes, but it’s a complicated sort of process. Beautiful, but complicated. So we must be kind and gentle with it. We much love it and take care of it, for _you_ are a wonder even amongst gods my sweet love. Until then, you are just going to have to be patient.” 

Loki hangs his head again, the very picture of disappointment. 

Thor can’t help his chuckle this time.

“C’mon lay back baby. Let’s see if Daddy’s kisses can make it better.”

This time when Loki lays across Thor’s lap, it’s with his head propped on a pillow, his torso angled, shoulders back so his chest is tilted and open for Thor. The blanket open around his lithe, naked body. His eyes wide, trusting. 

“You take my breath away, Queen Loki,” Thor says, before bending down and kissing Loki’s milk sweetened lips. But instead of just their usual one-two peck, Thor moves his lips gently over his brothers, once, twice. Reverent, careful.

Loki’s hot mouth quivers with uncertainty under Thor’s gentle glances, his body stilling at this new, never before encountered pleasure. Thor can feel his brothers long lashes against his face as he blinks rapidly, can feel his breath hitching. Slowly, thoroughly Thor continues to pamper Loki’s trembling mouth in milk doused kisses, coaxing the sweetest little noises from the back of his little throat. After one especially honeyed, aching sort of caress of his brother’s mouth, Loki responds.

He lifts his chin and mimics Thor’s more practiced motions with his own shy, tentative ones.

It opens up something greedy in Thor, something that wants to _plunder._

Groaning, Thor forces himself to pull away.

“Did I do it right, daddy?” Loki asks, bashful, his body tense. Thor’s lust slakes in the face of that anxious innocence. 

Thor thumbs at the splotchy redness of Loki’s cheeks, slipping his hand once again into those sweat dampened curls to massage and ease. The palm of his other hand remains pressed against Loki’s pussy, not moving, just applying the loveliest most necessary bit of pressure to keep him aroused. Thor breathes him in - sharp sweat, cream and mulled lilacs.

“Mmhmm. Just relax love, close your eyes. It’s not about doing it right, it’s about enjoying it. You were made to be kissed, Loki.”

Loki sighs in relief and puckers his mouth for more.

Thor smiles. Could anything be more beautiful than that flushed, earnest face?

He leans down and captures his brother’s delicate mouth in his own once again. Cautiously, Loki’s lips move against Thor’s and the sweetness of that one moment nearly brings tears to Thor’s eyes.

Gods, what’s wrong with him? Loki must be dispelling some sort of pheromone that’s causing Thor to have sympathetic hormonal fluctuations alongside his brother.

Despite his inner turmoil, Thor keeps the pressure feather light and teasing while Loki angles his head and moves his lips experimentally. Thor kisses his baby sweet and unhurried, respectful of his innocence and wanting it to last as long as possible. But soon, Loki’s slipping a slick scented hand into Thor’s hair, pressings his hips shamelessly up into Thor’s palm.

Thor nips at Loki’s swollen bottom lip and pulls away.

Loki yelps at the surprised tug, at the harshness of his brother’s beard on his sensitive skin. Daddy’s always so gentle, so soft. But Loki thinks he likes the roughness too.

“Did you like kissing Daddy like that?” Thor asks, pulling back to take stock of the red hot mouth, the glassy green eyes.

Loki whispers a yes daddy and pulls at Thor’s hair in a way that goes right to Thor’s dick.

Thor allows Loki to guide him back down over his panting body. But instead of that mouth, Thor drops slow, soft kisses across Loki’s jaw before tonguing his diamond studded earlobe. The gem, mined by elves from the deepest of caverns, feels ice cold and impossibly hard against his tongue and when Thor _sucks_ , Loki makes a sound with his entire body.

Thor can’t help but smile and remember how the two brothers would attach themselves at the mouth for hours, the height of adolescent eroticism. Arms wound around each other’s sweaty bodies, legs draped and entwined, mouths red and bitten through. In barns, under tents, dark corners of the palace, on the floor after rolling off their bed. Learning what made each other scream and bite and come. Loki’s ears were always so sensitive, sometimes he’d sit on Thor’s hard cock for hours, unwilling to move, wanting to just to _soak_ his brother’s dick, coming only when Thor slurped up his earlobe. Just as he had done now.

Thor spends an inordinate amount of time kissing the diaphanous skin of Loki’s moonwhite neck, relearning all the spots that make his baby sigh, all the spots that delicious smell of his is concentrated.

“You taste so good love. Like milk and peppered honey cakes. Daddy could kiss you all night Lo.” and he will. Soon, he’ll show Loki how to open his little mouth, how to suckle on Daddy’s fat tongue.

Loki mewls lustily at the idea.

“But right now, baby Lo wants kisses somewhere else, doesn’t he?”

“I _need_ them, daddy,” Loki whines.

“Shh. Yes baby, daddy will give you what you need. Daddy’s going to play with your fat clit and kiss your pretty nipples baby. We’ll go slow, but it will get more intense. You’ll get wetter and more swollen down here, it’ll be tingly tingly tingly. Slowly, you’ll start to feel a tightening in your belly and you’ll get hotter, all over. It’s all normal love, just follow the feeling in your bones, baby. If you get scared or it doesn’t feel good, you tell daddy no and daddy will stop. Okay, Loki?”

Loki nods and bites on his lips, already a squirming puddle of need.

“Say yes, daddy if you understand, baby.”

“Yes, daddy,” he says, petulant even now.

Thor takes a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Okay. Okay good. Now wrap your hand around your cock and pull, just like you love to do. Yes, good boy. Here, lets add some of your slick - lovely, oh that’s it. Such a sweet baby. Feels so good now, doesn’t it. That’s right, twist a little at the head, spread it around love. There you go, so pretty and wet now. Keep going, love.” 

Thor watches as Loki’s head falls back at the sensation of his newly slickened cock. Unfortunately, it’s at that moment that another bout of pain slices through his little body and he cries out for daddy.

His heart despairs at Loki’s anguish. Thor knows he’s drawn this out far too long in hopes that Loki’s pain will dispel of it’s own accord. And now he has no choice but to do exactly as he’s promised.

Thor bends down once again to Loki’s mouth, swallowing his baby’s whimpers as he starts stroking around Loki’s belly, up the sharp curve of his ribcage and between his tender breasts, a feather light finger tip here, a deeper more profound pressure there.

Until shimmering strands of pleasure starts to weave bliss through Loki’s pain.

Like a devotee at the altar of a god, Thor explores the swollen tissue that will soon mature into plump breasts. He revels in how different parts of his baby’s tender body now feel under his glowing skin. The gossamer, undulating swell, the beating of that little heart under his palm, the way a caress on the underside makes Loki’s mouth fall open on a gasp.

Thor’s massive hand circles Loki’s breast tissue in large, slow strokes guiding him through his cramping pain as his lips caress and sooth that tense, pursed mouth.

“More, more, please please please” Loki’s chants muffled into Thor’s mouth. But daddy can’t hear him, not when daddy’s mouth is so big, so hot, his lips so _thick_ that they swallow up all his wretched sounds.

Desperate with the pain, the hand not on his once again soft cock winds once again into his daddy’s golden hair. And _yanks._

“Patience, Loki,” Thor grunts and Loki strains, but eventually, as the pain ebbs his exhausted body slackens and droops, his hand falls away, his neck wilts.

Daddy’s firm but decadent mouth, his unhurried hand slowly pull Loki together. Loki sighs as he once again starts to kiss his daddy back, slowly loses himself in the rhythm, the warmth, the constant pressure. Now shivering at Daddy’s large hand, big fingers callused from wielding weapons and ropes. Now relishing how Daddy’s mouth is so big, so hot, his lips so _thick_ compared to Loki’s. But oh, Loki _loves_ the way they cover his whole mouth and swallow him up.

He gives a happy little wiggle. Oh. _Oh._ He’d forgotten that daddy’s other hand was still down _there._

As a reward for his brave boy, Thor begins tracing the carmine blush of skin around his puckered nipples in languid circles. Loki’s mouth opens with a gasp, those green eyes wide with surprise, when Thor’s finger nudges at his nipple.

And what a lovely set of nipples they are. Normally the palest pink, nowengorged a blood red, getting tighter and sharper under Thor’s tantalizing touches. Firm and then gentle, soft and then rough. Slow. Fast. Faster.

Loki’s eyes roll back into his head, his little mouth opening, puffing warm milk scented air over Thor’s face. Lost once again, but this time to decadent pleasure.

Thor wants to stick his tongue into that hot, milky little mouth, agonizes over how incredible it’ll feel to finally stick _something_ inside his hungry little boy.

Thor groans, instead kissing along Loki’s glass sharp jaw before sucking on the vulnerable, translucent skin below his tiny ear with it’s fat glinting diamond. 

“Daddy, yes, yes,” Loki shudders, his hand on his cock frantic.

Thor pinches Loki’s nipple at it’s root.

Loki’s cry of surprise becomes an ohhh of pleasure as his hips start to move against Thor’s big palm, his cunt getting slicker with each pinch and pull.

Thor shifts the heel of his hand so it rests tightly against Loki’s distended clit.

The bend of Loki’s tiny body is such that Thor can curve his middle and forefingers so they slide between Loki’s ass cheeks and rest pleasingly over his winking asshole. It felt so good the way the opening _quivers_ with humid promise against his fingers.

“Ohhh daddy,” Loki keens, rubbing himself silly.

“Lo, you’re going to grow such beautiful tits for your daddy aren’t you? For your daddy and your babies. So we can suck and feed on your fat nipples full of cream, our mouths are going to feel just like this,” Thor pinches Loki’s nipple, simulating the act of nursing, “Oh yes, love. I want it too, so dearly.”

Holding one straining bud between forefinger and thumb, Thor pinches and begins to roll. His baby’s lithe body swells with delicious waves of bliss, fills him from swollen chest to throbbing clit with the hormones that not only compel relaxation and pleasure, but also bond parent and child. Under Thor’s touch, Loki ripens sunset pink, his brow drenched in sweat, his delicate toes curling as he chases each flux of pleasure like a heartbroken, desperate thing.

“Keep going, my heart. You’re gorgeous like this. Daddy’s going to kiss your tits now. Don’t worry love, daddy won’t stop until you’re done.”

When daddy’s fat puffy lips finally _finally_ brush against Loki’s left nipple, Loki is sure he is going to _die_ from the pleasure. Could anything feel better? And then, daddy _sucks_ one nipple with his hot mouth and _pulls_ the other with his rough fingers and Loki is tangling moon fingers into sunshine hair and pulling and gasping and moaning, feverish - rutting shamelessly against his daddy’s big palm.

A twitch of daddy’s roughened fingers, slick against Loki’s asshole. Pressing. Pressing.

With a great shout of ecstasy Loki jerks and slams his hips into Daddy’s hand, accidentally catching the tip of that calloused finger on the thin rim of his taut little hole, just inside, and bursts like a flaming meteor.

With a grunt, Thor pushes the bottle back into a still coming Loki’s mouth, holding it there with one hand as he sucks his babies nipple and keeps steady pressure on his throbbing clit. Loki wails around the nipple.

But Thor knows just how to make Loki’s orgasms last and he wants this, his baby’s first one, to be absolutely unending. “Shh, suck baby. Keep sucking for daddy,” he murmurs against Loki’s straining nipples as a pale, moon white hand claws at Thor’s hair with each thrash of those wild, bucking hips.

Slowly, _agonizingly_ he holds Loki flailing on the knife’s edge of each wave, on the crest of each white hot swell - until the little body becomes nothing but a a mindless aching particle in a deluge of joy washing headlong towards perfection.

Loki starts sucking for dear life, his throat working as wave after wave of terrible pleasure flings him against shore and then drags him back in again. Why won’t it _stop?_ Oh god, _this_ is how he’s going to die.

Thor watches as Loki’s little cock floods white cream for the first time. A torrent of liquid spills out of his sweet, quivering pussy - it’s warm and clear and for a second Thor thinks his baby has wet himself.

Thor scents the air.

Oh, his sweet innocent _darling_.

Squirting so _beautifully_ for his daddy.

Something of Thor’s carefully built reserve cracks at seeing his brother fall apart so completely. Cracks and splinters into a thousand jagged little pieces that sink into his skin and make him lose his fucking mind.

Thor’s own release bears down on him, a freight train no longer willing to be ignored. Lightening spreads up his ass, spilling a crackling sort of heat over Thor’s massive thighs as Loki mewls and looks at his daddy with barely enough awareness to show fear.

Biting down on his lip, Thor rocks his hips against Loki’s squirming, soaked ass, coming so hard he tastes blood.

Loki is half asleep by the time Thor comes to, leaning over his baby’s unconscious form, his mouth tasting like iron, his lap cold and wet.

“Fucking fuck,” he mumbles, dragging in a breath. What a mess. Tense, Thor waits for the guilt like a man haunted. But it doesn’t come.

Instead, all there is is Loki’s gentle breathing, his ruby mouth moving unconsciously against the soft nipple, no more milk to be had. His exquisite face content, long wet eyelashes casting shadows, a blush the shade of rose petals scattered along his cheekbones. A picture of repose. Boneless. Pain-free. Serene.

And still, no guilt blooms in Thor. Just a deep satisfaction, perhaps a lightening spark of excitement at what lay ahead.

Thor cleans his little brother off carefully, thoroughly with hot, wet towels. Loki moans in his half sleep as the rough fabric runs over his torso, under his arms, between his legs in deft but gentle strokes. The heat soothes him, sends him deeper into his well-earned rest.

Still his little hands grab at the blanket, his mouth opening and closing. He whines, wanting something in his mouth. He misses the bottle already, even though it’s not enough. That’s the real reason he fights it.

Incandescent relief snakes through him when he feels his daddy push one thick finger, then another into his mouth. This is what he wants, to know that daddy’s not going to leave when Loki falls asleep. Loki starts to suck, just like Daddy whispers for him to do so. It tastes like Loki’s slick, but under that the salt, the callouses those are all daddy. It’s the last thing he remembers before he’s truly lost to the world.


End file.
